Creative Living, Creative Works - Angela M. Counts

By Angela Counts © 2008 The girl behind the counter yelled, "Next!" I looked around but nobody was in the store. It was 11 am. I slid the application toward her hoping she would see it and I wouldn't have to tell her I was looking for a job. I hated having to explain things to people. It took her a minute. She was busy reading a magazine – one of those cheapy ones claiming sightings of UFO's and strange creatures having sex with celebrities. She was really into it. Then she noticed my application and looked up. She was young. Probably 19, but looked my age. She didn't say nothing and I didn't say nothing. It was like she thought maybe I was one of those creatures or something and it was hard for her to make the shift back to reality. That's when I knew I wanted the job. Something where I could do my school work, ignore customers and play stupid. Perfect. I got up my nerve. "I'm applying for the position," I said tentatively like she had some